


Weddings are the Worst

by kickcows



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Misery Loves Company
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2607920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ulquiorra is conned into attending a wedding with his best friend Grimmjow, and ends up having a better time than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weddings are the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend on tumblr, who chose the following AU prompt - two miserable people meeting at a wedding au.

He looked up at the church with a pained expression on his face. He never was one for weddings, and really had no interest in being here in the first place. But, his roommate was dragging him to this cursed event, as his plus one. At least the rain that had been looming in the skies all morning finally began to fall, drops descending down from the grey skies, amplifying the current sour mood he was in.

“Lighten up, Ulquiorra!” Grimmjow turned off the car. “You should be thanking me!”

“And why would I be doing that?” He asked, unbuckling his seatbelt, and watching as more wedding guests seemed to be arriving, all darting into the church to get out of the rain.

He got out of the car, extending his umbrella. “Well, because you’re going to get a free meal, and hopefully some free booze out of this. But, knowing Kurosaki, he’ll probably make it a cash bar. Tsch.” Grimmjow got under the umbrella with him. “Get that sour look off your face. Weddings are happy, you dolt.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t even want to be here.” He tugged on his tie, the knot seeming to close off his air passageway.

Grimmjow slapped his hand away. “You look great. Quit fussing with that. I don’t want to have to fix it again for you.”

“No one asked you too.” He mumbled. They walked into the church, Ulquiorra shaking off the excess water from his umbrella before setting it in a rack by the door.

“Bride or groom?” A young woman with blonde hair asked them. “Oh, Grimmjow!” She smiled. “Does my brother know you’re here?”

“Pretty sure he’s preoccupied at the moment, kiddo.” Grimmjow’s hand ruffled through the girl’s hair. “Which side are we on?”

“Right side.” The girl replied. “See you at the reception?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” His roommate turned and looked at him. “Come on, Bat Boy. Let’s go sit down.”

He rolled his eyes, hating the nickname the man had given him. Following behind, he looked around at the decorations. He could feel his misery intensify as all the colors seemed to be radiating happiness. _Free food. Free booze. Not at home. No, wait. I’d rather be at home._ He itched to push his hair back, but had been strictly forbidden by his roommate to touch his hair. They approached a pew and made their way down the bench, where a young woman sat by herself. He tried not to notice her, but the air she was giving off seemed to be just the same way he was feeling, and could not help but notice her.

Grimmjow leaned over him. “Orihime? I didn’t think you’d be here.” He reached over Ulquiorra’s body, and patted her knee. Ulquiorra tilted his head, unsure what was going on with this strange woman, and why his roommate felt the need to be so rude as to reach over him.

“I don’t want to be.” She replied, her voice soft, carrying a hint of sadness. “I’d much rather be back at home, plucking my eyebrows, or scrubbing the grout off my tiles.”

Ulquiorra snorted. “If you are so miserable, onna, why are you here?”

“Onna?” She blinked. “I have a name. My name is Inoue Orihime. What’s yours? Asshole?”

“Nice!” Grimmjow laughed, sitting back against the pew.

He sighed. “No, but seems like my roommate shares your sentiment. Ulquiorra Cifer. And I, like you, do not wish to be here either.”

“Then why _are_ you here? You didn’t date the bride, did you?” Her demeanor seemed to switch.

Eyebrow raised, he turned and looked at her. “If I dated the bride, why would I be at this? And no, as stated, I’m here as my roommate’s plus one. He’s friends with the groom, which is why we are sitting here.”

“Oh, right.” Orihime turned away from him. “Well, enjoy the blessed event. I know I won’t be.”

“Why are you here, then?” He asked again, not paying attention to the music that had begun to play. The pews had started to fill up, and it seemed that the wedding was starting.

“It’s my ‘duty’ as a friend of both of them to be here and support them.” She spoke a little loud, but then was hushed by several people around them. She continued in a softer voice. “I am not sure why I’m here, though, because I feel sick.”

“Would you two shut up?” Grimmjow leaned over. “It’s starting!”

Putting on an air of defiance, Ulquiorra did as was told, and stopped talking to the woman next to him. She seemed to have calmed down, the look on her face going back and forth between pain and happiness. He sighed, and listened to the couple exchange their vows, not at all affected by their supposed happiness. The rain was proving to be a nice distraction, as he listened to it pound on the windows, rather than listening to what the priest was saying. It finally ended with a kiss, and the sounds of Mendelssohn’s ‘Wedding March’ began to fill the rafters. They all stood up, watching the bride and groom head down the aisle, followed by the rest of the wedding party. Once the song finished, more light music played, as people began to leave their pews.

“Time to head to the reception.” Grimmjow grinned, and slapped Ulquiorra on the back. “See ya later, Orihime!” He left the pew.

Ulquiorra turned, and saw the woman was dabbing tissue at the corner of her eye. “It was nice meeting you. Enjoy your time at the reception.”

“Doubtful.” She sighed. “But, thanks. Nice to meet you too.” She shook his hand, then walked away from him, leaving him alone in the pew.

“Yo! Ulquiorra! Hurry up!” Grimmjow shouted at him from the entrance of the church. Sighing, he looked at his watch and hoped that the reception was going to be a less tumultuous affair than the actual wedding was.

When they arrived at the venue, both he and Grimmjow gave their jackets to the coat-check, neither wanting to suffer in the heat of the venue. He rolled up his sleeves, and loosened his tie, glaring at his roommate. Grimmjow followed suit, wiping the glare off of his face. They walked over to the table that had the seating arrangement, and picked up their placecards.

“Guess we’re at table 4.” They walked into the reception hall, and saw the room was filled with people already. “Ah, yes! Not a cash bar! Alright, Kurosaki!” Grimmjow grinned. “Want something from the bar?” He handed him his place card. “I’ll meet you at the table?”

“Fine. Whiskey and coke, please.” He walked towards the tables, clutching both of their placecards. Thunder rumbled outside, as the storm continued on.

He made his way towards the table with the number ‘4’ perched on top of it, and saw a few others already seated there. He approached the table, and stopped just before arriving at it. It seemed that Orihime was sitting at the same table, right next to the only two open seats left. He walked towards the table, and dropped his place card on the dish right next to hers, leaving Grimmjow to sit next to a man who was very….bald.

“Oh, good. More people for our….” Orihime stopped talking, and looked up. “Ulquiorra?”

“Yes, onna.” He pulled the chair out, and sat down next to her. “Seems like the world is against us today.”

She laughed, the sound quite pleasant to his ears. He grimaced, ignoring the feeling that had manifested in his chest. “I’m just glad I’ve got someone to talk to. I thought I was going to have to listen to Yumichika gossip all afternoon.”

“And what is wrong with that? I thought you were enjoying my nitpicks about everyone’s awful fashion choices.” The person sitting next to the bald man batted his eyelashes playfully. “We both know that this lot is terribly dressed.”

“Oy! I hope you don’t mean me!” The bald man stated. “Don’t listen to him. Name’s Ikkaku. That’s Yumichika. Don’t let him bother you.” He extended a hand towards Ulquiorra. “You friends with the bride or groom?”

“Neither.” He shrugged his shoulders, and set his napkin on his lap. Grimmjow walked over to them, trying to carry four drinks in his hands.

“Neither?” Yumichika asked. “Well, then, what are you doing here? Are you a wedding crasher?”

“Maybe he’s my date.” Orihime teased, her arm slipping through his. He tried to ignore the warmth of her bosom on his forearm, but it was rather distracting.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, listening to the three continue their conversation. She had yet to remove her arm from his, and was trying to figure out a polite way to ask her to remove it. But, the longer she left it there, the more comfortable he became.

“Yo!” Grimmjow set all four drinks down. “Ah, Orihime! What a nice surprise!” He handed Ulquiorra his drinks. “Got two, so we don’t have to go back over there soon. It’s madness.”

“Thanks.” He picked up his drink with his free arm, sipping some off the top. He grimaced. “Do they even know how to make a proper drink?”

“Apparently not.” Grimmjow chuckled. “Gotta stir it, I guess.” He looked around the table. “Well, at least we’re not at table 9.”

“Who’s at table 9?” Orihime asked, her mood seeming to be quite different from how it had been in the church. Ulquiorra couldn’t help but feel the same, as much as he was loathe to admit it. He acted as if he didn’t care, knowing full well that Grimmjow was watching him.

Ikkaku snorted. “Mutants. Didn’t you ever see that film ‘Wedding Singer’?”

“Well, the only mutant I see is the one sitting next to me.” Yumichika teased, a smirk on his face. Ikkaku’s face turned red, as he hit the man’s shoulder.

Orihime leaned over, and spoke softly into Ulquiorra’s ear. “They’re together, if it wasn’t obvious.”

“It is.” He states in a monotone voice, while sipping his terrible drink. “Are you drinking anything?”

“No. I don’t like alcohol that much.” She pulled away from him. “Although, it might be better if I did drink something, as I really don’t want to be here.”

Ulquiorra looked over, and saw that Grimmjow was in a conversation with the other two men. “Did you date the groom?”

“It was a long time ago.” She nodded her head. “We’re all friends, though. I am very close with Rukia.”

Before he was able to ask her another question, the wedding party arrived. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and watched them make their entrance. Music began to play, as the bride and groom began to dance in the center of the room. He could hear Orihime sniffling softly, and against his better judgement, he reached under the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. He felt her hand clasp on his, her fingers pressing firmly against his, as they both watched the first dance.

When it finished, he felt her let go of his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.

“I wonder what they’re going to be serving? I hope it’s not chicken.” Grimmjow said. “Drink faster, Ulquiorra. I don’t want to be the only one drunk.”

“Someone has to drive home.” Ulquiorra began to drink his drink, the sudden warmth from her hand disappearing as he held onto the sweating glass.

Once dinner was served, Ulquiorra had switched to the provided red wine, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. He listened to each of the conversations, not really paying much attention to any of them. He was, however, paying attention to the woman that seemed to be in a much more relaxed state. He hoped it wasn’t obvious, though, as he didn’t want to endure any comments from his roommate.

The dj announced that the dance floor was open, and encouraged people to start dancing. He raised his eyebrow, as he saw Grimmjow jump up. “Come on! Let’s go dance!”

“I’m good. Go without me.” He sat back in his chair. “Dancing isn’t much of my thing.”

“Your loss!” The shock of blue hair headed towards the crowd that was already forming, as the music began to liven up the atmosphere.

When a slow song came on, Orihime looked over at him. “Will you go and dance with me? Even though you don’t like to dance?”

“If that is what you wish, Orihime.” He caught himself from calling her ‘onna’, as he didn’t wish to offend her.

She stood up, and held her hand out to him. “Yes, that’s my wish.”

He was led to the dance floor, moving past couples swaying to the music. He placed his hand on her waist, and left his other hand in hers. They began to dance together, moving in a slow rhythm. Soon, the hand that had been holding hers joined the other hand that was wrapped around her lower back. Her head rested on his shoulder, as they moved together, not really dancing, but neither seemed to care. He rested his head on top of hers, and held her a little close, the alcohol in his system lowering barriers he normally kept up.

“He was a fool to lose you,” he speaks quietly, as he hugs her close. “But, his loss seems to be my gain.”

She lifted her head, and looked up at him. “Ulquiorra?”

“Do not waste your tears on him, onna. He is happy. You deserve to be happy too.” He knew he was going to regret even speaking, but another slow song started, so they were trapped there. “If I may, I’d like to take you out on a proper date. Perhaps we can exchange numbers?”

“Do you always pick up on women at weddings?” She asked, her voice a little breathless. “Because, if this is something you normally do, I don’t really want to be a part of that fantasy.”

Ulquiorra smirked. “No. I don’t normally pick up on women anywhere. This is a strange circumstance.”

“Well, I guess I can’t say no to that.” She smiled, and nodded her head. “I’ll give you my number when we go back to the table.”

The song ended, but neither of them removed their arms from each other. He looked into her eyes, and saw that the misery that had been there seemed to be disappearing. He leaned forward, lips ready to touch hers, when someone tapped his shoulder.

“May I cut in?” The groom, Kurosaki Ichigo, asked.

“Kurosaki-kun!” Orihime blushed, and smiled. “Congratulations! The wedding was beautiful! Where’s Rukia?”

“Talking with Renji and Byakuya.” He grinned. “So, may I cut in?” He looked at Ulquiorra.

Torn between wanting to keep dancing with her, he knew he had to oblige the groom. “Of course.” He let go of her, and bowed low. “Enjoy your dance.” He headed back towards the table, trying to ignore the rage that was silently creeping into his system.

“Were you about to kiss her?” Grimmjow asked, a smile on his face. “Ulquiorra, what the hell is going on with you?”

He sat in his chair, and looked anywhere but the dance floor. “I don’t know. I hate weddings. Can we please go? I don’t want to watch them eat their cake, or anything else.”

“What about Orihime?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He stood back up. “Please? Let’s go.”

“Fine, fine.” Grimmjow stood up. “Been real, you guys.”

They headed out of the reception hall together, and walked over to the coat check. Ulquiorra began to put his coat on, but stopped when he felt a hand on his back.

“You’re leaving?” Orihime asked, her eyes bright. “I thought we were going to exchange numbers?”

“Yes, well, I could see how happy you were with him.” He mumbled, slipping his coat on. “If you still want to go out on a proper date, then I would very much like to give you my number.” He saw Grimmjow waiting by the door, staring at the two of them.

“Please?” Orihime nodded, and took out her phone. He told her his number, as she put it into her phone, and did the same for hers.

Placing his phone back in his pocket, he heard them announce the garter toss. “Enjoy the rest of your time at the reception, Ms. Inoue.”

“Thanks, Ulquiorra.” She smiled, and began to walk back towards the reception hall.

As he and Grimmjow began to walk out, a hand yanked on the back of his jacket, forcing him to stop. He turned around, and saw Orihime there, a smile on her face. She stood on her tiptoes, and placed a soft kiss on his lips, sending a jolt through his body.

“Thank you.” She whispered, before turning around, racing back towards the reception hall. He touched his lips, a slight blush creeping up onto his cheeks.

“Fuckin' A, Ulquiorra.” Grimmjow grinned, and slapped his back. “For someone that really didn’t want to go to this, I’d say you scored pretty big.”

He extended his umbrella and shrugged his shoulders. “I hate weddings.” The tingle on his lips remained, as he silently thought how much this particular wedding wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you for reading!


End file.
